Give Me a Reason to Smile Again!
by Granite Aizawa
Summary: Last Chapter! So read And Review! ZM, ShoujoAi. XP Chapter 8 Rewritten! Now!
1. Fingerpainting? You’re Kidding, Right?

**Give Me a Reason to Smile Again**

**K/N: Hmm... I do NOT own the idea here... My friend Yentl own it, and he...is kinda get bored and suck, so... Arhgh!! Whatever, Read and Review!!**

**Feedback: My mail is empty. So... please.  
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**Disclaimer: I do Not own anything in this STORY, But I need your Reviews.**

**Give Me a Reason to Smile Again**

**Chapter One: Fingerpainting? You're Kidding, Right?**

Zakuro walked in silence beside Minto, one of the privileged few people she dared even greet.

It wasn't that she was an unemotional block of ice that was mean and cruel to every person or thing she saw, but Zakuro was just a natural loner. She always preferred to be alone, to be left in her own business. One would think it gets tiring, always being alone, willingly observing others from the shadows, but this was the life she chose.

It didn't matter if she was eight, eighteen, twenty, or an eighty-two old person wrinkly and gray, living with sixteen cats in a musty run down apartment. She deserved it. In every corner of her mind, in every millimeter of her soul, Zakuro Fujiwara **knew** she deserved this. She would suffer alone with no one else around to bring down along with her. She didn't want this, but it had to be done.

And so, the young Fujiwara's once colorful view on life dimmed. She became colorblind. Not in the physical sense, but mentally. Shades of gray were all she saw. When one was bent on suffering to somehow earn the forgiveness of the dead, it happens.

If one would ask her what she'd think of kids going out of their way to please a parent, she'd tell them the parent most likely bribed the kid into obeying or perhaps the child was seeking praise.

Rainbows were no longer colorful and uplifting in spirit. Although they held the promise of worldwide floods to never happen again, the rainbow only existed because there was one. There was a worldwide flood that wiped out billions of men, women, and children. That so called beautiful rainbow reminded Zakuro of all the condemned souls.

Nothing was ever black and white anymore to her. There was always a bit of good in the bad, a bit of bad in the good.

Zakuro was **almost** starting to enjoy the repeatedly seen scenery they passed walking to school everyday when Minto spoke up.

"Onee-Sama, why don't you ever smile? Every time I see you, it's either frowns, scowls, or no emotion at all." said her, wished she could saw her smile.

"Because I never had a need to." She answered simply.

"Have you ever wished you did?" asked Minto, gave her a dazzling smile.

"Mint-Chan, enough with the nonsense." Zakuro frowned. Her breath would not be wasted on pointless questions. "I have other things to mull about other than a simple gesture such as a smile."

Minto immediately jumped at the chance to use her loophole to further prove her point. "See?"

"No, I don't see." Zakuro interrupted flatly.

"All I see is your brain going to mush from continuously reciting the multiplication tables in class."

She ignored her comment. "If smiling is such a simple gesture to you, then why don't you ever do it?" She frowned, then shut her mouth up. Zakuro was not a type of person who would easily take a suggestion from another people. Especially from her.

They passed the gates of their school.

"I refer to my previous statement. Furthermore, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop interrogating me like a criminal and to cease your fruitless analyzing of my habits."

The two arrived at the classroom and took their respective seats.

The teacher, whose name Zakuro never bothered to remember, had started class off with passing out speed drills with a three minute time limit. Zakuro took the paper, completed it, and wrote down how long it took her about the same time Minto did. They were so mind-numbingly simple. Her mind drifted back to the young heiress's question.

"_**Onee-Sama, why don't you ever smile? Every time I see you, it's either frowns, scowls, or no emotion at all."**_

"_What business is it of her?"_ Zakuro thought, trying to push her mind away from it. Try as she might, she couldn't help but replay the conversation in her mind.

"_**Have you ever wished you did?"**_

"_No, I haven't. Such foolish inquiries." _

"_**If smiling is such a simple gesture to you, then why don't you ever do it?" **_

Although Zakuro had told Minto she had no need for the simple gesture, truthfully, she didn't know. _"Is it really that hard for me to smile?" _She frowned. _"No, I've done that on multiple occasions." _Her lips were about to tilt up just to show she could, but then Zakuro stopped. _"Why do I feel the need to prove myself to her?"_ She allowed a soft sigh to escape her lips.

Discussing pointless questions in her head proved to be just as useless.

Once the class had turned in the speed drills, the teacher made an announcement. "Today, class, I have received special permission to redecorate the east wall of our school!" She exclaimed happily. "Each of you will have your own little section to do whatever you want by finger-painting. Doesn't that sound fun?"

All students but two erupted with joy. Pudding, holding a can of orange paints. Berry smiled and brought a can of white and Pink Paints with Ichigo. Lettuce, preferred with somewhat natural paint.

Minto looked at the teacher with that flat eyed stare of her, wondering if she was still sane. Zakuro diverted her sullen gaze out the window.

"_There is no way I'd participate in that. Not even if the teacher drags me out there kicking and screaming."_

After School, Zakuro found herself staring up at the courtyard wall with a dead panned expression on her face and a bowl for paint in her hands.

"Come on, Onee-Sama, cheer up. I'm sure this'll be lots of fun." Minto tried to encourage her that it would be quite enjoyable, though her face stated otherwise. She grimaced at the sticky paint that landed in her face from Ringo and Berry, who were carelessly flinging it around.

Pudding, in particular, was having the time of her life chasing poor Lettuce around with her paint covered hands. Kishu bounced up to Ichigo and tried to get her with his own paint. Not wanting to get any more paint on herself than necessary, Ichigo sped off with Kishu hot in pursuit. The teacher, on the other hand, was frantically attempting to restore order.

Zakuro stood there against the wall, avoiding any stray heaps of airborne paint. She scanned the wall to see if anyone had actually done what the teacher had intended for them to do.

Her ice blue eyes jumped from splotches of paint to the next when finally, her eyes settled onto a smiley face.

"_**If smiling is such a simple gesture to you, then why don't you ever do it?"**_

"_Not this again…How many times must you invade my mind, Minto-chan?" _On the inside Zakuro may have been a wave of bitterness, self-loathing, and confusion, but outwardly, she remained impassive as ever.

Minto had spotted Zakuro off to the side after she escaped from Pudding. Temporarily taking it upon her to make her business hers, she saw fit to fabricate some other emotion from her regular ones. She snuck out of her line of vision.

Zakuro froze when something wet slid down her cheek. Her whole body stiffened considerably and the color in her face waned. _"Blood?"_ Having lived in fear and paranoia had taken its toll on her. Sometimes, even the simplest things would scare her. The creak in a door at night, the revving engine of a passing car and the tires screeching to a stop, footsteps behind her lone figure, gunshots, screams, and the dark.

Brown blue eyes widened in fear. What was in here with Zakuro?

"Zakuro?" Minto's worried face peered into hers. Zakuro hadn't seen her worried since the last time they had a close encounter with Deep Blue.

Zakuro snapped to attention when she entered her line of vision. Her fingers slowly reached up to her face. Zakuro hesitantly touched the wet trail down her cheek and pulled her hand down to examine.

Blue paint.

Any woman that put self-preservation as one of her priorities would've immediately seen how the intensity in Zakuro's ice blue eyes went up a few notches. The cause of this could've ranged from anger to lust, but seeing as how Zakuro looked as if she wanted strangle Minto, it was safe to say it was probably one of the angry emotions.

As much as Minto loved being around her, she didn't feel like sticking around long enough to identify the specific emotion that flashed across her face. Zakuro was never one to easily lose her composure over little things, but apparently, smearing blue paint in her face might have been an exception.

"Minto …" She growled out.

That was all the encouragement Minto needed to run away from the normally calm Zakuro Fujiwara.

Zakuro ran after the dark blue haired girl, her lips pursed into a determined line. She dashed past Berry and grabbed the bowl of paint from her hands.

Purple paint.

"_Perfect…"_

Moments later, Zakuro collapsed onto the school's courtyard breathing heavily as she appraised her new work of art. She watched as a flustered Minto, splattered head to toe in purple, scramble back and forth out of embarrassment, trying not to be seen.

She ducked her head to hide the smile that was beginning to form, but it didn't quite get there. A shadow suddenly enveloped her tall figure.

Looking up, she found not her Otou-san, not Deep Blue, but a certain Minto Aizawa standing over her with an entire bucket of paint in his hands.

Even with her face flushed crimson and panting from exhaustion, Zakuro managed to shoot up at her with her dead panned stare. "Minto, you wouldn't dare."

"Justice will prevail." She grinned.

The two were backing up and running in no time flat.

"It was a joke!" Came the panicked cry from Minto. "Smile and laugh already!"

Blue paint covered Zakuro. She stopped and glared at her retreating form in the iciest manner she could.

"If she held it as dear to herself as to see me participate in this activity…"

She muttered darkly under her breath. She walked over to the table full of art supplies, grabbed the first thing she could reach –the lavender paint- and dumped it into her hands.

Moving over to the wall, she smeared the lavender onto a blank space on the wall that no one had yet to splatter with airborne paint.

"That should satisfy her." Zakuro glared at the lavender smear on the wall as if her misfortune was all its fault. She turned and made her way to the restroom to make herself at least halfway decent when she entered her home.

That afternoon Zakuro was still irked over what had happened even after a somewhat relaxing bath. She was lucky she had bought special shampoo to wash out anything or else the paint would have been an absolute nightmare to wash out, that hasn't been released yet.

"_Hopefully, Minto wasn't as lucky."_ She thought darkly.

"_**Smile and laugh already!"**_

"_Why did she have to go and say something like that…?"_

Zakuro massaged her temples in annoyance. _"I-The last time I heard it was when Otou-san hissed into my ear…" _Her face screwed up in disgust as her mind drifted back to the memory which was so clearly scorched into her brain.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Zakuro whirled around only to remember her door was locked. She hopped out of her chair to find out who wanted her while calming her heart that seemed to leap into her throat.

A certain Minto Aizawa was standing at her door shuffling her feet with her head down. Zakuro could see in her neatly kept dark blue hair that some flecks of purple still remained. Minto took a hesitant look at her, and Zakuro raised an eyebrow. She ducked her head down again and took that as a cue to start speaking.

"I'm…really sorry for getting you so upset today. I was just carried away. I'm really sorry, I was having a small bit of fun and thought you might liked to be included…I know you don't like socializing, but-no, I'm sorry. I should've known better. I'll do anything you want in return to make up for it."

Zakuro was at first, shocked. The great Minto Aizawa apologizing? It took less then one second to regain her typical cool composure. "Minto…" She started.

"Hmm?" She looked up at her through her bangs.

"I know how you can make it up to me." A side of her lips lifted.

"What is it?" She asked while wondering what was going through that mind of hers to make her smirk likes that.

"I want to see you run ten laps around the park, swim four laps around the pool, drink an entire gallon of water, do one hundred sit ups, sixty push ups, pick up my groceries from various places, and endure an entire hour of Ryou-san's soap operas."

Minto's face had gone from apologetic to a pale horror stricken expression. "A-are you serious? That's what would make you happy?" She spluttered. "Torturing me is what would satisfy you? That's sadistic…"

Zakuro's smirk only widened. "Thank you. I am very well aware of what that is." She turned and closed the door behind her. "Meet me at the park in ten minutes." The door clicked shut.

The poor dark blue-haired Mew was left gaping at her door.

**K/N: Mmm... I hope this story is a MxZ enough... Read and Review!!**

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	2. Smiling is an Action to Please Others

**Give me a reason to smile again!**

Granite: Well... I update this!! Yay!! This's the second chapter of give me a reason to smile again!! Starring Zakuro and Minto!!

Kesla: I'm sad... I still can't open my account.

Granite: You baka.

Zakuro: Alright, all I want is read the next chapter... frown

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**Disclaimer: I dont own anything in this story, well... ah, I don't own Zakuro and Minto and also her skateboard...** **

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**Chapter 2 : Smiling is an Action to Please Others**

"Good. You're very punctual, Minto."

Zakuro Fujiwara was sitting on one of the park's wooden benches while she watched Minto arrive on her unusual solar powered skateboard. "Not wanting to exert yourself any more than necessary, hmm?" She asked, eyeing her 'unusual' skateboard.

Minto hesitantly stopped in front of her looking confused. "You mean…it wasn't all an act?" She blinked. "So you didn't have something important to tell me after all? Something for instance like, oh, I don't know. Nothing secretive?" Zakuro raised an eyebrow at her.

"Let me get this straight," Minto continued.

"You brought me out here not because of wanting to tell me something no one else could overhear, but to have me actually run, swim, and watch Shirogene baka's soap operas?"

Zakuro stood up and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Must she always assume an ulterior motive in everyone? "I'm extremely relieved you reached these conclusions by yourself, Minto. I thought it might have been too hard for you to comprehend. You might be able to give Shirogane-san a run for his money with that intellect of yours." She rolled out a bicycle hidden from behind the bench.

Minto huffed, not believing she came out here for nothing. She thought Zakuro had completed something. "Sheesh…don't mislead a girl like that." She turned to jet off on her skateboard. There was no way she was going to stick around to have her torture her like she promised.

"One moment, Minto." She motioned her over to the bike. "I suppose you weren't really serious about your apology. No matter, stand here before you go. I want to conduct a little experiment regarding for you." She went back behind the bench to retrieve something.

The dark blue-haired girl's mood immediately brightened. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" The girl practically bounced to the spot. "Zakuro, not to complain or anything, but should your experiments be made HERE?"

She came back with a jump rope in her hands, ignoring her question. "Hold one end, will you?" Minto readily complied and took it in both hands. She looped it around her arms and hands tightly with a knot then turned to the bike.

Minto wasn't so sure for her personal safety now. She had been involved with plenty of homicides that had either the victim or murder with rope. For some reason she couldn't discern, her self-preservation senses were tingling like mad as if someone had just attempted to shove her over the side of a building. Strange wasn't it? Yes, she decided. It was indeed strange how Zakuro had tied her hands together like this. And now she's…tying the other end to the bike? Her curiosity could only be quenched for so long. Minto had to find out why, but she also had to word it in a way that would not grate on Zakuro's nerves.

"Say, Zakuro? How's adding me as your bike's new accessory going to help you with your experiment?" Yeah, being honest and tactful –read blunt and tactless- was definitely the way to go. She completely ignored the fact that Zakuro could have possibly still been angry at her and was just hiding it. She silently congratulated herself on a job well done.

Zakuro kept silent until she climbed onto the bike. "I hope you run just as fast as I can pedal. It'd be a tragedy for the park's reputation to have your face smeared onto its ground." With those final words, she took off.

To all those reading this, pity poor little Minto. For a model that would seem to have been cooped up in photo shoot all her life, Zakuro handles a bike pretty well. Never mind where she learned how to ride one. Besides, I have never seen a girl of Minto's age run at such astonishing speeds. I don't think the people they passed by had either.

"_One truth will prevail."_ A saying Minto would proudly proclaim. The one truth? All women are body-breaking slave drivers when angry. And right now, both would agree that Zakuro has a streak of deviousness locked away inside her that was for some unknown reason, released today in the form of energy. Well, not quite so unknown, but at least he knew how Zakuro stayed so thin all the time. Either that or she's got a fast metabolism.

Zakuro skidded to a halt after the ten promised laps and heard Minto faceplant into the ground. She looked at her thoughtfully for a bit. "Hmm…at this rate, the accelerated growth process the bio chemicals in the DNA cause would pop his heart faster than a tack would a balloon. I'll have to reconsider that." She mumbled to herself. Sighing, she untied the dying Minto who was suffering from lack of oxygen circulating through his respiratory system because he was taking in deep gasps of dirt. Zakuro plopped down beside Minto on the ground and helped her sit upright.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and took in a deep breath of fresh air. "_How long was it since I actually lived?"_ Another sigh. _"Oh, right. When My parents was alive. They say the longer you hold onto memories of the dead, the longer it takes for them to move onto the afterlife. But how can I be sure the afterlife is an enjoyable place? What if I was sending my family into the depths of Hell? No. I can't think like that. They were a good person. Yeah…__**Were**__. Of course, good deeds alone aren't enough to get you to Heaven either. Then again…how can I believe in an afterlife when everything I trust requires proof?" Zakuro _closed her eyes. She wouldn't cry over the mere memory of her parents in front of Minto.

She glanced over at the gasping Minto who had fallen over in the grass, looking like she was about to pass out. Zakuro looked away with a small sweat drop rolling down her head.

"_I believe the latter just might take a while longer than expected." _

A hand suddenly lashed out and gripped her wrist. Zakuro's mind immediately leaped to full alert, the contact was like electricity rushing through her veins, shocking every siren into action in its path to her brain. But as usual, Zakuro could mask anything with that poker face of hers. She didn't even jump a centimeter. Calmly, she reached down and pried Minto's shaky hand off her wrist and asked coolly, "Yes, Mint-chan?"

"I…need…water!" She rasped out like one of those rotting zombies she once saw in Pudding and Ringo's video games. She pointed to Zakuro's pocket, indicating where her wallet was.

Zakuro gave her a dead panned expression. "I'd be more then willing to get you something to drink, but I draw the line at sticking my hand into your pocket to do so."

Minto's face might have already been tinted red from exertion, but now it went scarlet from embarrassment. "D-don't put words into m-my mo-mouth like that." She said in between breaths. She pulled the wallet out by herself and handed it to her. "Anything's fine."

Zakuro went off in search of a vending machine but not before taking the bike with her. "_If she was putting on an act so she could find a chance to escape, I'll catch her and make the baka suffer."_ Anyway, back to searching for a vending machine. "_I know we passed one or two on that last turn back there…"_

Zakuro returned with his drink not a minute later, wanting to see if she had actually run away. She was genuinely surprised to find her sitting in the same spot where she had left her and was keeping herself occupied by pulling apart bits of grass then tossing the bundle into the wind.

She almost smiled.

"Careful." Zakuro started in a light tone, observing her actions. "A beautician might do the same to your hair one day." She paused. "Then again, my warning might have been a tad too late." She sat down beside her.

Minto made a face at her and gave a sarcastic laugh. "Har, har. Real funny, Onee-Sama. I've laughed myself into stitches." She took the drink from her then gulped down its contents greedily. In one gulp she drained half the can. "Though…I do believe that's the first time you've ever cracked a joke before." She grinned.

"Oh, shame on me." Zakuro drawled out in her usual flat tone. "Have I brought the Apocalypse a century too early?" She watched her take another swig of his orange juice.

"Don't drink too much." She warned her. "You might get cramps when swimming."

Her eyes widened from shock and he spit out the liquid from her mouth to keep from choking. "You mean there's more? More of this torture?" Minto exclaimed with disbelief. "How could you be so utterly black hearted?"

Zakuro's nose wrinkled in disgust as a few drops hit her as well as from his choice of words. "I'm sure the plant life here really appreciated your generous donation of orange juice. The grass in particular." She added.

"Never mind the grass! What's this got to do with your experiment?" She asked indignantly. "Was there a scientific breakthrough? Were you inspired in some way by watching me run? Because if it's not enough, I'll gladly swim nine laps around the public swimming pool for you too!" She finished sardonically.

"I wasn't considering staying out in public for so long but since you offered…We'll join Pudding who swims everyday around this time. Don't tell Seiji-san where you're going." She stood and brushed herself off in a brisk manner. "You have eight minutes this time. I expect you to be at Pudding's changed and ready to go before I get there."

Minto didn't even bother to argue. She had a deadline to make and being late sure wasn't going to make Zakuro smile. Not that she did anyways. She scampered off to find her skateboard.

Zakuro watched her scramble around like a chicken with its head cut off. Just this once, she'd be merciful and give her, oh, say…one extra minute. She sat down in the grass again, being careful not to touch Minto's patch of orange juice sprinkled grass. Zakuro brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. _"I really shouldn't be out here by myself." _The thought popped into her mind.She didn't seem very worried outwardly though. Of course, that was our expressionless Zakuro. Being able to mask her emotions with a blank face would seem like a good trait, but it's a strange thing to be seen on teenagers. But I believe we all know masks don't just appear over night. They slowly develop over a period of time.

Masks come in all different shape and sizes. Some are happy, some are sad. Masks are often used for one basic purpose: to hide what's underneath it. You may ask why. I may ask why. Heck, you might even ask me why. Well, the reasons vary from one person to the next.

As for Zakuro, it's because she's lost all reason to smile. She didn't wish to lose any more reasons to show her other emotions, so she hid them. She hid them somewhere deep in her heart until her face forgot how to form those emotions. She wouldn't give anyone a chance to take away her other emotions. The raven-haired girl knows that once something is proven illogical, it's time to dump it and move on towards the next thing. Otou-san forced her to smile one too many times, and now her smile is meaningless. Ever since she's met him, Zakuro has just accepted the habit of smiling whenever the cold, ruthless, slightly insane, but extremely possessive Otou-san was around. Now that he was gone, what more reasons were there for her to smile?

That was reason number one for a reason not to smile.

Otou-san was gone. Her parents were gone. She was forever indebted to Minto... Fear and paranoia were the two main things that ruled her mind. Zakuro couldn't even walk around a corner without thinking that it would be the very last step she ever took. Heck, even the thought of voluntarily stepping outside of her house was frightening.

That was reason number two for a reason not to smile.

She was all alone, and only Minto's promise of protecting her and keeping around her kept Zakuro sane, kept her from trying to take her own life away again. The others Mew Mew members wouldn't know it, but those very words she said to Zakuro when she tried to reassure her would keep Zakuro from suicide. When she would stand in her kitchen holding a knife, her words would keep that blade from slitting her.

She'd never admit it, but when night overtook the day as she lay in bed, those words would give her the strength and determination to keep searching for the cure, to keep failing but never giving up, to wake up and face a new day Zakuro knew she didn't deserve to live.

But even her words…weren't enough for a smile.

Promises were meant to be broken.

Especially those made in haste.

That was reason number three for a reason not to smile.

Regardless, Zakuro wanted to keep her mind in the present. She wanted to keep that forbidden security she didn't deserve. It was selfish. Zakuro knew that. But she wanted it. She wanted it more than anything in the entire universe. To know that someone would always be there for her, to know that person would never let her fall, to know that someone would offer her comforting embraces even when she'd deny it, to know that someone would accept her despite her ugly and scarred faults, Zakuro wanted these things more than anything. Zakuro with her new life **wanted** it. She **needed** it. But she would never have it. False hope was all she could cling to.

That was reason number four for a reason not to smile.

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**To be continued...**

**Granite: I always wanted to say that... Please read and review!! The more review I get, the faster I update!! Oh, and I had re-read this!! and rewritten!!**


	3. First was the dark, now the cold

**A/N: I'm quite suprised that anyone like this story... I dont think I like this anyways, but its until... 11 chapters, I suppose? Alright. Whatever. **

**Read and Review, Please, Darlings! **

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**Give me a reason to smile again **

**Chapter 3 : First Was the Dark, Now the Cold**

Zakuro was irritated.

No, she was beyond irritated.

Scratch that.

She was extremely pissed off.

If Minto came walking through that door right now, she'd probably stomp up to her with a furious aura surrounding her and chocked her throat.

Minto was late.

Deathly late.

Extremely late.

Six hours, eleven minutes, fifty-five seconds and counting** late**.

The Purple haired model allowed herself to sink farther into the couch, sulking. Her book had been long since tossed aside, and she hadn't been able to finalize it, so Zakuro resorted to glaring at the door. _"I should bash that inconsiderate idiot over the head a few times with every encyclopedia volume I can find." _She thought crossly. _"She has the nerve to complain about anything but isn't even willing to help!"_

She jumped from her spot and started pacing for what seemed to be the twentieth time. Her thoughts were hasty and erratic, randomly switching from one idea to another. Her mind hadn't been in such a state of chaos since…well, _that_.

Frustration seeped into her eyes, but she willed them away. Forget about Minto. She told herself. There was dinner to make. So, Zakuro went home and prepare anything for the dinner.

The tall model, who now knew how to ride a bike and cook, was gently stirring her miso soup with a wooden ladle in her hands, at the same time, watching the beef in another corner of the stove sizzle in a little cooking oil. She then switched her attention from the soup to concentrate on preparing the beef. With a pair of chopsticks in hand, the determined girl set out to do just that. The rice cooker sat on the counter to the side, daintily blowing out steam.

Within ten minutes, she had the table all set and ready to eat. Zakuro sat alone at the table with a dismal air surrounding her. She picked at her food, not really in the mood to eat.

She stared at her food, occasionally stabbing her share of beef with her chopsticks. Zakuro felt strangely restless, but why? She looked down her slowly cooling dinner. She lost her appetite. Actually, she never had it to begin with. Sighing, she slid down from her chair and shuffled back into her room, abandoning her meal. She really wasn't acting like herself. Showering and going to bed early were the only things she wanted right now. She just couldn't stay still or concentrate…it felt so hot. Maybe she should have the ventilation system examined just to be sure it was in working condition.

Maybe it was premonition hinting at some shrouded foreboding danger. Perhaps her intuition was trying to tell her something. She pushed it away. Zakuro didn't believe in a sixth sense. She hated it far too much to. Irony's a pain in the neck.

Morning came and that meant the sun was up and shining for all its worth. Zakuro was extremely grateful for it being a Saturday; otherwise she wouldn't have known how to withstand the absolutely insane amount of sunlight the whole day.

The moment she had opened her door, sunlight had brutally attacked her ice blue eyes and nearly blinded her. Groggily, she muttered something incoherent and slammed the door shut, making a hasty retreat back into her dark room. She flicked on the light and immediately winced from the fluorescent lights. Even the light from that was abnormally unbearable. Zakuro hesitantly cracked one eye open and made her way to a lamp, turning it on. Her poor abused eye which was taking in an absurdly excessive amount of light protested at its mistreatment. It started to burn and blinking didn't help at all. She stumbled her way back to the light switch and turned them off.

Relief flooded her senses at the dimly lit room. Satisfied with the adjustments, she crawled back into her bed, the only place she'd feel completely comfortable at right now. Just as her head hit the pillow, she sneezed. Miserably, she looked around and somewhere in the back of her mind, Zakuro dully registered that the room was devoid of tissue. She'd have to venture out into the cruel, bright, and burning sunlight to retrieve a box of Kleenexes.

She moaned pitifully, realizing what had to be done. Grabbing her pillow, she held it in front of her face like a shield then braced herself, opening the door. Unforgiving sunlight rushed in and filled every dark corner of her room without remorse. Zakuro clenched her eyes shut behind what little shade her pillow offered and bravely made her way outside. Light seemed to be shining from every angle to her.

Poor Zakuro shuffled around blindly, not daring to look from fear of the sun. Her sensitive eyes were starting to burn even from behind her closed eyelids. It wasn't until long that she stumbled straight into a wall.

A muffed, "Oof," escaped her mouth when her head slammed into her pillow against the wall like an air bag. She backed up a few steps then turned to the right mechanically, not even bothering to look. The tissue was near. She could sense it. It had to be. Otherwise, she'd collapse onto the floor from exhaustion and bake in the sunlight. Never had she shared such sympathy for the fictional vampires.

After two blown noses, three additional collisions, and the successful yet agonizing liberation of the tissue box from the living room, Zakuro retreated into her room, the place where there were no windows for sunlight to seep through. The miserable feeling girl flopped back into bed, which was actually a bad decision, seeing as a headache had started up.

Wanting to do nothing but crawl under the covers and fall asleep, Zakuro set out to do just that. Seconds later when she had felt somewhat comfortable, the blasted phone rang. She loved phones for all they were worth, but right now she felt like pouring some highly acidic solution over every single one of them in the house. She'd take pleasure in watching their plastic cases melt away, the wires and everything inside frying with short bursts of crackling electricity.

But…she did not want to get out of bed _again_. Zakuro tried to muffle out the shrill ringing that wrecked havoc on her headache but to no avail.

It was there.

It was annoying.

It was torturous.

And it had to stop.

Now.

Zakuro stormed out of bed and up to the phone that she imagined to shrink in fear. With a murderous aura, she glared at it wanting to rip apart its plastic casing. Whoever was on the line calling at such an unorthodox time such as now was really going to experience Zakuro's full throttle wave of pent up agitation. Clearing her throat, she picked up the receiver and not-so-cheerfully-greeted the person with a strained icy voice. "**Good**_morning_."

"Hey, good morning, Onee-Sama. I hope this didn't wake you up too early from your beauty sleep." The voice on the other end snickered.

"_Minto."_

"Not. At. All." She gritted out. Oh, the things Zakuro would do when she'd get her hands around her, her neck in particular. Her dark-blue hair would be ever so neatly made and then she'd have this insufferable grin stuck on her face that she would find –not that she'd ever admit it- so endearing.

The young heiress cleared her throat trying to cure herself of the dryness in her mouth. She knew Zakuro was at the very least disappointed, but she couldn't help it. Her parents would get suspicious if she went out so often. "Sorry about yesterday." That was the only thing she could do, apologize. "There was a problem that turned up unexpectedly." She confessed sheepishly. "I-"She was about to continue when Zakuro interrupted her.

"Minto, don't call me, talk to me, or even speak to me." She hissed out at her in a vexed tone. At the moment, Zakuro didn't even realize calling, talking, and speaking were the same things. Her headache was clouding her thoughts and she was desperate for some shut-eye.

"Are you feeling well, Onee-Sama…?" Minto ventured carefully.

"You're the detective." She grumbled then hung up, ending their short conversation. Her temper all but diminished. It was too much trouble to get angry right now. Wearily, she shuffled to the tissue box, blew her nose once more, and then returned to her bed. Sweet bliss. She sighed. Now if only she could do something about that congested nose of hers.

Perhaps she was overreacting, but Zakuro was nothing short of stressed out and feeling absolutely miserable. Yeah, that's right.

She hated the common cold down to the very last nanometer in her being.

Well, hated was probably too mild a word to describe it. She was a complete mess when she had colds. Her sense of balance was thrown off so she tripped more often. Her ears and eyes became extremely sensitive. Her nose was clogged and it felt like her heartbeat was in her head which didn't help the reoccurring headaches she had. It was like all cranial functions had slowed to an unimaginable speed, her gigantic vocabulary suddenly eluding her.

If anything, Zakuro was so independent to the point of aversion for people doing things for her. Kind gestures she could deal with. But having someone take care of her? Zakuro would've enjoyed that as much as eating slugs.

She couldn't stand the thought of depending on someone. It'd be like what little freedom she had snatched away and having to be restricted to her bed a majority of the time. Zakuro felt helpless when she stayed in bed in the mornings. Someone, anyone, could charge through her door at any given time and take her life. All it took were a few holes and loss of blood. Or maybe suffocation. Perhaps the person would try to smother her with her own pillow. Maybe gag her with wire.

Either way, Zakuro didn't like it. She didn't like the fact that Minto would be inspecting her dead body if she was ever murdered. It'd be too embarrassing. Well, if she was dead, it would matter but…work with her, people. Zakuro has a cold and it's warping her logic.

Zakuro groaned as she sneezed yet again. She wearily shuffled towards the tissue and blew her nose. Fed up with all the trips back and forth she had just noticed herself taking, Zakuro dragged the waste basket to the edge of her bed then placed the tissue box beside her on the bed.

Her mouth screamed for water, but her mind demanded sleep. Zakuro wanted nothing more than a sniper putting her out of her misery. Too bad there were no windows here.

Zakuro sat up against her pillow, sighing. She hadn't meant to come off as rude but…her thoughts and emotions felt as if they were strapped to bungee cords and chucked off the side of Tokyo Tower. First she was afraid of being vulnerable to attacks then she wanted to be attacked. Still, it was no excuse for the way she had been acting. Zakuro was going to apologize.

Right after she blew her nose.

False hope among facts.

What a pity.

**I hope I dont do any stupid things again in this chapter... Well, I'm sorry that I made ifluff half busy, for this project, (I'm having a cold, and I cant thinking of swimming 9 laps, lol) Here's summer! Give me a disclaimer!**

**ifluff: all right! Granite own nothin in this story, right?**

**Granite: Thats right! Please reveiews, friends!!  
**

* * *


	4. Zakuro be immature

**Give Me a Reason to Smile Again**

**Chapter 4 : Zakuro be Immature**

**There were rarely any happy endings.**

Zakuro awoke, her body covered with chills. She found it hard to move, so she settled for staring at her wall while she tried to control her heartbeat that seemed to be slamming against her ribcage. Her eyes started to dart around apprehensively as if expecting someone stepping into her view. _"Sleep paralysis…"_ That was the answer her mind came up with for her immobility. Granted, it was a delayed thought but…it least assured her that she was just asleep. Suddenly, Zakuro's heart lurched up so fast, she felt like barfing it up when she heard the door being knocked on.

She thought for sure her life had been cut by three years. She took several calming breaths, reassuring herself that it was perfectly safe. She shuffled towards the door, hesitantly unlocking it open. The door burst open, seemingly of its own accord without warning, sending Zakuro stumbling backwards. There under the doorframe stood Minto grinning with a canteen gripped in her hands, the sound of liquid sloshing inside.

Zakuro blinked at her for a few seconds then turned around, grumbling something incomprehensible –most likely unpleasant- and crawled back into bed when she realized there wasn't any immediate danger. She sighed contentedly when her head hit the pillow.

She peeked out one eye when she felt a presence looming over her, only to come face to face with Minto as she peered curiously at her. It took a while for her mind to register the distance between their faces. Her ice blue eyes regained a bit of their shine as they widened in shock. She scrambled back, embarrassed for unknown reasons, only to remember at the last second that her bed wasn't all that big. She toppled over the edge, landing with a _thump_. Zakuro was slumped upside down against her bed and the floor, her legs in the air, shoulders on the floor, and a disgruntled expression on her face. She sneezed, and her legs fell over, flopping to either side of her head.

"Zakuro!" Minto hurried over to her. "You didn't hurt anything, did you?"

The girl in question rolled over to get up, rubbing the back of her head. "No," she glared pointedly at Minto, "not yet."

A sweatdrop rolled down the back of her head. Zakuro knew she was suddenly treading on paper thin ice. "_Hmm…how do you pacify a girl?"_ She remembered something…it was there on the edge of her memory…yes! That's it, compliment her. It always worked for Ichigo. But what should she praise Zakuro about? All what I've said before? No. Let's see… The word clothes popped into her mind. "_Right, now that should be easy enough…she's wearing pajamas. What can I say about them? Uh…better make it quick, she doesn't look all too patient."_

Zakuro was reaching for the tissue box, ready to bludgeon the dark blue haired girl to kingdom come with it. The memory of leaving her hanging for more than six hours without any notice was still fresh in her mind. So was the fact she had poured paint all over her. Oh, how Zakuro wished looks could kill.

The thought might have been a little more than slightly foolish, but she had a cold. And since she had a cold, Zakuro felt pretty darn miserable, and heaven help any who would dare defy her. Right now, she wasn't concerned with what people would think of her. By God, if she wanted to be immature and daydream, she would! If being sick was going to portray her as being more childish than ever, then she would exploit it! She could always blame it on her cold. One didn't get sick everyday, and Zakuro needed to vent.

"Eh, Zakuro, you look cute-like a girl." Minto blurted out but feeling utterly **mortified** half a second later.

The wolf-girl paused in mid-reach for the box and frowned at her. "Excuse me?"

It was true though. Zakuro did look cute in her pajamas. They were loose pants and button up long sleeves, decorated with pictures of what seemed to be random newspaper articles everywhere. The cuffs on the sleeves were a bit too big, ending an inch or two below her fingers. Every time she moved her hands, the sleeves would flop around comically. At times, Minto was almost tempted to laugh when it made her look adorable –not that she'd ever say that out loud- , but she wasn't quite ready to be lowered six feet under or cremated for that matter.

"Ah, no! Not that I meant you didn't _normally_ look like a girl." She stuttered when she looked slightly offended. She tried to strengthen her story. "I mean that you look more like a girl in your pajamas!" Minto finished weakly. There goes Minto…she's just a natural (trying) smooth-talker around her.

Zakuro gave Minto her trademark deadpanned stare, crossing her arms. Her cold was causing her temper to be merciless. "That amounts to the same thing, _moron_."

"Umm…uh…" Minto was at a loss for words. This was awkward. Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut? She hurriedly changed the subject before he was kicked out of the frying pan. "I brought some chicken soup!" She chuckled nervously, holding out the canteen in his hands, offering it as a sort of peace treaty. "I thought you'd like it, since you were sick and all…"

"Oh, _really_?" She asked testily. "I suppose you want me to eat it now too, right?" Zakuro sneezed again and she tiredly clambered over to the tissue box.

"Well, Seiji-Onii-san said-"

Zakuro cut her off. "Right, Seiji-Onii-san said so and whatever he says is good for me. Is that what you were trying to say?" She snapped irritably.

She didn't give him a chance to answer. Zakuro took the canteen from him and walked out, fighting against her newfound enemy, the blinding sun, to reach the kitchen. Minto trailed a few steps behind her just in case she snapped and decided to brandish a phonebook, knife, or something to that extent.

Phonebook, you echo? Yes, even a phonebook can be lethal. What are you looking at me for? She's the Mint Mew.

Minto's few steps behind had turned into quite a few many. Minto admired the architecture of Zakuro's house, so…She lost sight of a **sick** Zakuro might I add. You should **never** lose sight of a sick Zakuro Fujiwara.

Obnoxious sounds of crashing and banging metal sounded throughout the house, practically clawing at your ears for attention. It certainly captured Minto's. She ran to the kitchen, the place most likely to have falling pieces of metal in the house.

She was right.

There, in the midst of the clutter, was Zakuro clutching at her head with pots and pans strewn about her. Minto literally felt someone drawing a violin bow over her heartstrings. They vibrated like crazy, a deep reverberating resonance. What was this feeling? Minto ignored the mess and made a beeline for Zakuro who was mostly likely hurt if she was cradling her head like that. She kneeled down beside her and gently removed her hands.

For the first time that day, Zakuro didn't resist her. She wasn't insisting on taking care of it on her own, and she didn't have any sarcastic or spiteful comment to throw at her either. Zakuro didn't even reach for anything to chuck at her. She just sat there, allowing Minto to inspect her injury, biting her lip when her hand came close to brushing over the forming bruise. She let out an uncharacteristic whimper when her palm finally settled onto the spot on her head.

Where had that stubborn and independent spirit of hers gone to?

Surprised, Minto pulled back, studying her. She sat with her knees tucked under her, probably because a pot or something fell on her head causing Zakuro to lose her balance. Her knuckles gripped the tops of the knees to the point of turning white. Her shoulders were slumped yet rigid, and her head was tilted downwards, but Minto could see her eyes clenched shut, and she was biting her lower lip.

The dark blue-haired girl frowned. Something was definitely wrong. She retrieved some ice, stored them in a plastic zip-lock bag, wrapped it in a paper towel, and lightly pressed it to her head. Zakuro winced from the sudden contact and initially tried to pull away, but instead, kept herself still.

She opened her mouth to ask, but Zakuro beat her to the question. "I opened the wrong cabinet." She explained softly. It was an unexpected but welcome change from her previous anger, but Minto said nothing, just giving her a lop-sided smile and helped her maneuver through the scattered kitchenware to a chair.

After making sure she was hurt no where else, Minto turned to pick up the mess and stored them back in their cabinets, safely this time. She righted the tipped over stool and started. Minto soundlessly watched him through her bangs as she reorganized the kitchenware without complaints. As she finished, their eyes met, and Zakuro communicated her silent thanks before breaking the contact, disguising it as a sneeze. She found the walls fascinating.

It didn't take a genius to know that Zakuro was a hard person to approach, much less talk to. Days would go by and Minto would think she had Zakuro figured out, and then she goes and does something to prove her wrong. She was one of the hardest people to understand, if not _the_ hardest.

Whenever Minto pealed away one false layer, thinking she had reached her, another wall would materialize her front of her, stopping her in her tracks. All his efforts would be rewarded with another obstacle. It might've seemed vain to break through one wall only to meet more of her inner defenses, but Minto knew if she didn't keep trying, soon those walls would pile up, and Zakuro would be impossible to reach. Minto was determined to never let that happen to anyone.

The dark blue haired girl placed the unopened canteen on the counter then dragged up a chair next to hers and climbed on top of it to see how big the bump on her head really was. Zakuro was truly surprised. It was a rare moment when Minto was so openly concerned about her. She knew that she did care, but it wasn't very often that she showed it.

Was she flattered? Yes.

Was she annoyed? Yes. But only because she called her klutzy.

Was she enjoying the attention? Yes.

Yes, she was. Zakuro took in every last bit of attention that was offered no matter how much of a loner she was. Even if it was just Minto worried over a bump on her head, she felt truly cared for. Little gestures…those were her most treasured possessions. Zakuro didn't know it, but a sneaky little smile sneaked onto her lips, against her will.

A worried looking Minto fussing over her, and Zakuro fixating her eyes on the floor, a slight blush gracing her cheeks. She blinked a few times before settling on the conclusion Minto just sleepwalking and delusional. Wearily, Minto shuffled back to her room.


	5. I think I need Glasses

**Chapter 5: I think I Need Glasses**

Zakuro blinked. Two times. This was not what she had expected at all. Not even close to what she had predicted. If anyone were to ask her what she thought of the situation at this very second, she'd probably give the person a nasty glare, clearing wanting to be left alone. But if one of her friends asked her about it…she'd tell her friend that she was very perplexed.

Most times, Zakuro was very quick to accept, process, and adapt to new information. She's a model, years of practice making her an extremely acute observer. Not much escaped her line of vision or knowledge. She was often the one with keen foresight, perceiving anything and everything that came her way before it came within fifteen feet of her. Her logic, common sense, and radar for danger were what had kept her alive and kicking for the most part so far. They helped her avoid any unnecessary predicaments.

This afternoon, she discovered they weren't always the most dependable things to rely on. She discovered it in a most…untimely and abrupt manner. It was like speeding down the halls when you were late for class, then without warning, a door flings open, and you run right into it smack-dab in the face, no air brakes included.

Alright, to cut this short, Zakuro was surprised.

Let's recap this morning along with Zakuro, shall we?

Zzz.

Zzz…

"_I do not want to wake up. I do not want to wake up. I do not want to- Oh, crud. Conscious thought, I'm awake."_ Zakuro groggily peeled her eyelids apart and watched as the two blurry looking floating alarm clocks merge into one.

She glanced out the window. The sun was shining, birds were singing, cars were honking, and- Oh, who was she kidding? The weather was horrible. The sky was a very dark overcast gray with a heavy torrent of rain, terrorizing every pedestrian except for the occasional few who enjoyed being soaked down to their undergarments. Not even umbrellas would spare those outside from the downpour. Zakuro was indeed very thankful for the roof over her head.

She allowed herself a morning yawn before getting out of bed, rubbing her eyes. They stubbornly refused to stay open. Zakuro raked through her hair with her fingers, knowing that it was always a mess in the morning. It would've been easier with a comb, but that simply was not an option at the moment. She wasn't one to be overly concerned with her looks, but Zakuro knew she had to at the very least maintain a decent and tidy appearance. Though…she seemed to have some trouble with keeping that neat and tidy look of hers.

Zakuro looked down at herself, assessing her clothes. Nothing special. A white long sleeves shirt, and a blue jeans skirt.

Zakuro pulled the annoying collar up to prevent it from slipping over her shoulder again. She had thought about tying a knot to make the collar smaller, but then it wouldn't leave enough room for oxygen to travel down her throat comfortably.

She pulled it up again as it slipped.

And again.

And again.

And again.

In the end, Zakuro left the stupid collar alone and went to see if the bathroom was available or to find her own clothes. The few they had managed to salvage.

On her way out, she noticed that the chair Minto had been occupying for the better part of the night had been scooted back in its original place. There was no evidence of it being beside the bed. She half-smiled. Minto was probably guarding her last night. She thought she would run again. It wasn't fair of her to think that way, but maybe it was just the feeling she emitted. After all, Zakuro's ran away from her troubles more than once. Who's to say she won't do it again?

Her hand rested on the doorknob when another thought occurred to her. "_Why is this all about me? Why did everything have to be about me? Have I ever made a decision without thinking of myself first?"_ She frowned at this revelation. Surely there must have been something.

Well, what about the affection for Minto? _"To ease to my guilt."_ Her mind answered promptly.

Befriending Ichigo, Pudding, Lettuce and Berry? _"Initially to 'blend in' more with the other girl at our school."_

But what about- _"No! I refuse to continue this. Must stop all these random little musings. Life is so much more tolerable without them. There are more urgent matters at hand that need to be taken into consideration rather than these strays."_

Sighing, she twisted the doorknob open and walked out, expecting to see a plain hallway but instead, nearly running into a grim looking Minto standing right outside the door. Zakuro made a disgruntled sound in her throat as she stumbled over his feet. Minto walked past her, gave no indication of her presence being there, and started pacing in the room she had previously been occupying.

She rolled her eyes, figuring it was just typical Minto behavior, and made her way down the steps. Apparently, the dark blue-haired girl had other plans when she dragged her back into the room. Zakuro opened her mouth to ask her what was so important that she had to speak to her about it now, but Minto -once again- began pacing back and forth. Her mouth shut with an audible click.

Zakuro huffed irritably. Fine, if Minto was going to pull her in here just to overlook her, Zakuro could do the same.

She sat on the bed and pulled at the collar again, feeling more self-conscious than usual. With her arms crossed, trying to keep the collar up at the same time, she draped one leg over the other and proceeded to ignore the pacing heiress.

What a mature pair of girls, huh?

This went on for about a minute or two until Zakuro neared her boiling point. She struggled to keep her expression neutral, although Minto wouldn't have noticed even if she started yelling at her. She was much too engrossed in her thoughts. In her mind, Zakuro was mentally ticking off a list words synonymous with, "rude", "moronic", "haughty", and a few others much too inappropriate to be included in print. Oh, and her mind briefly flickered to how attractive a brooding Minto was, but that goes without saying.

Uh oh. Haughty had to come up with something to distract her thoughts, quick. "Is there any particular reason you dragged me in here? I doubt you wanted a spectator merely for your pacing."

Minto mumbled a long string of words that haughty could absolutely not comprehend.

A sweatdrop rolled down her head, all previous traces of agitation gone. There must be something to catch her attention…Think, Zakuro. Think of something clever.

"You ever notice how almost every time we leave our houses, some unexpected murder turns up? I mean it's really amazing how high the crime rate is in this city." The words came out from her mouth before she had a chance to think them over.

She heard her say something along the lines of, "Yeah, there must be something in the water that makes everyone in the country really mean and angry." Zakuro had nothing to say to that.

There was a moment of terse silence before Zakuro had the notion to strangle the blue-haired girl.

_Fwoop-! Thunk. Thunk, thunk._

"Zakuro…will you help me?"

Zakuro blinked. Two times. Her mind nearly came crashing at a stand-still until her back-up battery –reason- flickered on. For some reason, she was expecting the fourth word to be something entirely different…

"_Okay…think this out rationally before you say or do anything. Right. Now first things first. If I agreed, what would I be entitling myself into?"_

Very calmly, with a deliberate arch of her eyebrow, she asked quite bluntly, "With what?"

"Umm…I can't tell you that." Her eyes were a bit distracted when Zakuro's shirt inched downwards revealing the top of her shoulder.

Zakuro knew exactly what caught Minto's attention. She wanted to slap her but very well couldn't, seeing as her hands were held together tightly in hers. Well, there was always another way to discourage her from any similar actions. If Minto knew she wasn't interested in pursuing her, she probably would've let this side, but since she was…

"Interested?" Zakuro teased with a smirk.

"Wha-? No!" Minto's face colored red when she realized that she was caught, flustered by her bold question.

Zakuro pretended to be confused, looking very innocent as if not knowing what she was referring to. "So you don't need my help after all?"

"Yes! I do need your help! I meant that I wasn't interested in…" Minto cut herself off. She cleared her throat. "Look, do you want to help me or not?"

"I'd be more comfortable with that thought if I knew what I'm going to help you with."

"No way! You'd make fun of me." Minto frowned.

"It's inevitable." Zakuro smirked

"Geez, thanks."

"You're quite welcome. Now are you going to tell me what it is?"

She stayed silent for a while. "Zakuro, I need you to help me on my date with Kishu."

Her back stiffened. Minto sure was one for surprises. She's on a date with Kishu? Is this possible?? "Exactly how did this happen?" Asked Zakuro, with a bit disbelief in her voice.

Standing up, Minto said, "Well, I told Kishu—he took it pretty well." She said that like it was the most casual thing in the world. She gave no outward indication of how relieved she was that none of the disastrous scenarios she ran though her mind came true.

Zakuro could tell there was something more to this though. Something that Minto didn't bother to mention. Conveniently forgot, perhaps. Curious as to why she didn't go into a full detailed explanation of how Kishu fell to her knees, enclosing her into a loving embrace that would've crushed any other girl's or even fangirls lungs, Zakuro pressed on for a more thorough account. Assuming that what was had happened, of course. Then again, she shouldn't press her luck.

"And that was it? That's how he agreed to date the vertically-challenged Minto Aizawa? Because you miraculously appeared from right under his nose?" Said Zakuro, with a singsong voice.

"Could you possibly be any more supportive? You might as well take out a shotgun and shoot me down now." Minto frowned.

"My main priority is not to be supportive. It's to keep you, me, and everyone else around us alive, so that maybe—just _maybe_ one day we'll have a future, rather than rotting away in some secluded area for some poor unsuspecting citizen to stumble across our dead bodies." Said Zakuro calmly.

Zakuro was rambling, and she knew it. When she rambled, it meant her mind would subconsciously chose words that would betray her most secretive thoughts.

Minto fell silent. She heard the message hidden in between the lines loud and clear. Her knowing eyes locked onto hers, unwavering.

Zakuro felt the sudden impulse to squirm or fidget under Minto's gaze, but caught herself and held still. _"Curse her! Don't tell me I fell for her clueless innocent girl act, too! She was probably operating in 'snobbish mode' behind that cheeky grin of hers. Whatever. I guess she finally figured it out…and I guess she wants nothing to do with me. Not that I blame her. I've just been kidding myself all along. There's no hope for us together." _Thought Zakuro sadly.

Zakuro forced herself to smile, to smile like she had been planning this the whole time and wasn't duped by her at all. But nothing had gone the way she wanted it to. In her eyes, this was as clear of a rejection she was going to get… If she confessed her whole things to Minto… _At how she really loved her… More than a friend…_

"Just kidding." Zakuro forced herself to say in a joking manner. Her throat burned, but she covered it by smirking to hide the way her facial muscles tightened. _"I'm such a pathetic little liar."_

Zakuro almost laughed out loud at her own sporadic thoughts. They seemed to pop up, accusing her of things like this at the oddest times. To her surprise, it was Minto who beat her to it, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Haha…You idiot…" Her expression softened as Minto gently squeezed her hands. "You really do like crying, don't you?" Minto commented with a half-smile.

"H—How did you come to that conclusion?" Zakuro stammered, feeling her face warming. It was not only an embarrassing thing to be accused of, but also ridiculous. How could anyone possibly enjoy crying until their eyes were puffy and red? To think that she would enjoy crying…was Minto deranged or something?

Minto shook her head without breaking eye contact, the sad half-smile never leaving her face. "You underestimate me."

Zakuro blinked stubbornly and averted her gaze, refusing to comment any further lest her voice crack.

Minto sighed, looking at her ruefully. "Zakuro …stop tearing yourself apart like this."

"What are you going on about?" Zakuro mumbled when she felt her voice wouldn't fail her.

"Do you want to play Go-Fish?" She asked suddenly.

Zakuro let out a short laugh, the urge to cry fading. "Are you serious?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. Minto sat down on the bed next to her with enough space let between them for her to pass out the cards. "I am very serious about this. What?" She smirked at her.

"Afraid to lose?"

Zakuro smiled, realizing that Minto wasn't going to pry. Thankful for the change of subject, she resigned herself to play at least one game with her.

"But I don't know how to-"

"Just deal the cards."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, yes, here's Go-Fish!! Who'll win?? Read and review!! Before I'll kill you!!  
**

**Here's the answer for the reviewer!! Sighs.  
**

**Kin 756894- **Hey, I think I'd have fix it though... Mmm... 2 prev chapter before...

**Urooj- **Yes, Now I know how to play Go-Fish... Thanks!!!


	6. The water is cruel, Minto

**Chapter 6 : The Water is Cruel, Minto**

**A**/**N: Don't worry. I'll update this faster!!**

"Do you have a nine?"

Zakuro silently handed the card over to Minto. She wasn't in the mood to talk, much less bluff and tell her, "Go fish." What Minto had said greatly disturbed her. Her words wrapped themselves around her mind like a boa constrictor, squeezing her brain so violently, she'd swear it was about to explode.

She felt so confused at why she merited her passing words with such concentration, and then she would grow frustrated, because she was unable to come up with a reason as to why. Zakuro couldn't focus on the game. She wasn't able to recall anything her mouth had uttered through the duration of the game so far…

…She blinked at Minto's patient face. It was her turn, wasn't it? Sighing, she looked at her cards, wondering if it was possible for this game to become an Olympic sport. She promptly swung a mental golf club at herself for the ridiculous thought. Looking over her cards once more, Zakuro settled on asking for a five.

Minto shook her head and pointed to the deck of cards. She rolled her eyes. Was it really that hard for her to say the stupid words? Zakuro shifted her weight on the edge of the bed to make herself more comfortable, taking care not to upset anything in the process. Reaching over, Zakuro drew a card from the pile.

Ace of Spades.

"_Oh, joyous. Am I so much closer to death now?"_ She thought sarcastically when she remembered what spades represented. _"Minto thinks I like to cry does she? Well, maybe I should start weeping over this card to prove her deduction correct."_ Zakuro screamed inside her mind, thoroughly vexed at the thought. _"I. Do. Not. Like. To. Cry." _She repeated this over and over like a mantra as if her sanity depended on it. But she still had no idea why it bothered her so much.

Leave it to Minto to remedy the situation. "Say, Onee-Sama, May I ask you a personal question? By the way, do you have a Queen?"

"No. Go fish." Was her snappish response.

Even the Blue-Mew wasn't able to discern if Zakuro was answering his second question and ignoring the first, or if she was answering both at the same time. Taking a card from the deck, she repeated his first question.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

"You just did. Do you have a four?"

"No, that's not-"

Zakuro drew another card from the pile, saying, "It was a question directed at me. That's personal enough."

"Onee-Sama…" Minto groaned exasperatedly at her logic. "Fine, allow me to rephrase that. May I ask you multiple personal questions?"

"Of course, you may. I just might not answer."

Figuring he was never going to get a straight answer, Minto just went on with it. "What was your life like before?"

Her _I do not like to cry_ mantra was abruptly cut off. It left her wondering if Minto had listened to her at all when she went through her angst-filled bouts of depression. "That's a stupid question." She told her earnestly, without the annoyance portrayed in her mind.

"Did you have any friends before?" Minto knew she had just voluntarily stepped onto a lake, but she just had to know. Too bad for Minto, the surface tension of water isn't all that strong. She was going to fall right in.

"…I had a few."

"Who were they?" When she saw Zakuro hesitating, she added in a slightly disappointed tone, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Of course, if she did, it would've been a great bonus.

Even so, Zakuro stayed silent. She never should have told her anything at all. She knew Minto would try to find and interrogate them. Although she owed them nothing, she felt the need to protect their identities. The dead wish to rest in peace, don't they? Minto searching through files of their life wouldn't give that peace to them. But what could she do? Refusing to tell her would only result in Minto prying further, and telling her was out of the question.

Give the dead their rest…? Heh, that's a good one. Who was she trying to convince? Last she heard, all of them were alive and living their lives the way they wanted. She just didn't feel like going into detail.

"_Selfish…that's what I am."_

Oh, hey! She could avoid the question with one of those ambiguous answers. Why didn't she think of it earlier? All she had to do was get the timing right, and Minto would leave the subject alone. First things first: Run the current subject into a pothole and start a new one.

Zakuro had the perfect story and application in mind. With Minto's intuition, she'd know exactly what she was referring to. She glanced at the clock. They had been playing Go-fish for almost an hour. She had no clue how that happened, but whatever.

"Minto, I thought you had a date."

Crimson seared across Zakuro's face, the question leaving her flustered. "I-uh, yeah. I do have a date…" Minto cleared her throat, regaining her composure.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for it?"

Minto looked down at his cards, pretending to be immersed in them. "We're just going for ice cream…" She trailed off, her question suddenly taking a lower priority.

"Hmm? You made it sound like you were taking him on a trip to Europe."

"I did not!" She denied with a blush.

Smirking, Zakuro countered with, "Perhaps you caught my cold, Minto? You seem positively red."

Embarrassed, she grumbled out, "Whatever…"

Zakuro blinked, having just noticed this. "Where is Seiji-san, anyway?"

"He's out for business. Kishu said he wanted some time to think all this over, so I'm meeting him at the creamery."

"I imagine he would need some time to accept this." Zakuro said, nodding her head. "I mean…My sympathy goes out to him for the hardships he faces."

"Yeah, I know what you—hey! I am not short." Minto protested.

"We are not going to start that." Zakuro deadpanned.

"Alright, fine. You are taller, okay? Sheesh…no need to blow this thing out of proportion. What's it take to please you these days? Humiliating me?"

"Somebody needs to keep your ego in check while Seiji-san isn't around. But, no. The only one you need to worry about pleasing is your husband. Just let me go my own way." Said Zakuro.

"Zakuro…I didn't mean for you to take it personally like that. I just"

"Forget about it. Just be content with what you already have." Zakuro cut in.

"No, I…" Minto was about to finished her mid-way sentence, while Zakuro cut in.

"Minto, have you ever heard of the story about a dog and her reflection?"

Minto shook her head. _Why Onee-Sama asking something like that?_

"One day, the dog was walking home with a bone in her mouth, intending to eat it peacefully at home. She had to cross a plank lying over a running brook to reach it. As she walked over, she spotted her own reflection in the water. The dog saw a bone she simply had to have. So, she barked at the water, thinking it would scare away the dog that held it, but as she opened his mouth, the bone she was carrying dropped into the water and was swept away by the currents. Shocked at the loss, she jumped right in after it, only to discover she couldn't swim." Finished her.

"Learn something from that fable, will you, Minto?" Zakuro placed her cards on the bed and walked out the door.

Minto didn't stop her this time. Sighing, she sat back on the bed, looking over their game. She was tied 8-8 with Zakuro. Curious, she looked over her cards and found one last pair she could've gotten from her. With a sad smile she said, "Here…I'll give my heart to you." She laid the Ace of Hearts and the Ace of Spades over by her other pairs.

9-8, Zakuro won this around.

Minto shook her head slowly, wondering what came over her. She had to clean up this mess and meet Kishu for ice-cream. But even so, she could not resist staring at the door, saying to herself, "Onee-Sama sees only a foolish dog wanting more than she has something she could not obtain. I see a dog willing to sacrifice everything she owned, including her life for someone she just encountered walking by."

Unbeknownst to Minto, Zakuro was standing outside with the door open just a crack when she initially heard her talking to herself. Zakuro had heard everything. Granted, her words were muffled by the time they reached her ears, but she heard them all. Her ears perked up when she started speaking again.

"Onee-Sama, I'm drowning. Will you teach me how to swim?"

Zakuro suddenly shrank back from the door, quickly walking away.

"No…I don't want to." She muttered under her breath. "I don't want to give you any reason to go near the water. They're dangerous, Minto. Why can't you just stay away?"

**A/N: Ho-hum. I know, I know…I'm building up on the characters a little too much and the actual story much too little. I can't help it. xD Bleh…Zakuro seems a little too out of character. Okay, ****a lot****. Especially her thoughts... **

**Zakuro: Mmm…**

**Granite: Well, Zakuro-Ainosama??**

**Minto: (slap Granite) stop call Zakuro as Ainosama or I'll... (looks at Rin, she's sobbing) OMG… you have to make it up!!**

**Granite: wha- why?? **

**Rin:…………. Speak to the devil….. Bullshit!!**

**Granite: I'm sorry. What should I do to make it up?? (rolls eyes)  
Rin: (grins) update all of your story in a day. And don't forget to ask-**

**Granite: What?? Right than. Yes, I don't know whether being happy or not. But since my girlf- I mean… Rin-Ainochan asks that, I'll update faster… wait at 6****th**** September, at Zakuro's b-day!!**

**Zakuro: Wow, thank you. Please read and review!**


	7. Crockscrewed

**Give Me a reason to smile again**

**Chapter 7: Corkscrewed**

**A/N: Hi, everyone!! Happy b-day, Zakuro! This chapter is for you…**

**Disclaimer: C'mon… Put another usual disclaimer here… I'm too lazy to write…**

She sighed, just wishing for this day to be over, even resorting to counting the seconds as they passed. Zakuro had the urge to do something akin to cursing Minto's good name till she was old and wrinkled. But she had better things to do. Right?

Trudging down the stairs, taking care to make as little sound as possible, Zakuro cleared an area on the couch to sit on. Piles of magazines and newspapers were stacked unceremoniously on the floor while cans of numerous beverages had to be dumped into the recycling bin.

She curled in her spot on the couch, hoping Minto wouldn't come down just yet. Zakuro wanted to be as far away as possible from her at the moment, but she wasn't all that eager to leave the house either.

She thought of herself as some stupid, indecisive, little girl whose mind and emotions were really thrown out of whack by one egotistical female.

"I'm going out now."

Zakuro waved carelessly from where she was. "Don't forget to close the door."

Minto gave her a look of—disappointment? And then stepped out.

Zakuro shrugged it off, figuring it was just her imagination.

_Ding dong, ding dong!_

She mumbled something about impatient people and asked who it was.

"I'm Hattori from the clean up site at that burnt down building, and I was told I could find the person who lived there here." Claimed a man outside.

Curious, but cautious, Zakuro cracked the door open. "Yes…that's true. May I ask why you are looking for this person?"

"We found what looks like a suitcase under the rubble. Here." He slid said suitcase through the door and left.

Zakuro blinked, looking at the thing. She never would've imagined herself having something like this in his house. It looked like one of those titanium suitcases that carried expensive or fragile things like maybe a bomb or millions of dollars. Well, it certainly looked the part. It even had a combination lock.

The first thing she wondered was if it was a bomb.

Then she ruled out the thought. If someone really wanted to blow her up, the bomb wouldn't have been placed at her house, and certainly not buried under all that rubble like the guy had said. But, despite her reasoning, Zakuro couldn't help but press her ear against it, listening for anything suspicious.

She fiddled with the dials, wondering if the wrong combination would trigger an explosion.

Maybe she was a bit too fatalistic.

What she wanted to do was call Minto, but she... Oh no. Well, death by a bomb at point blank didn't sound too bad.

"Hmm…three digits…"

Always try the obvious first, right?

000? Nope.

111? Not that either.

222? Boy, isn't this random?

333? –cough-

444? Guess not.

555? Maybe I was a little too hopeful.

666? Mark of the Devil?

777? Jackpot! Hey! What the…?

The top popped open and nearly took her nose with it. Zakuro fell over from surprise. "_Triple seven…jackpot, but corny_." She thought. Zakuro looked at her prize. Inside were…

Odd looking rollerblades.

Two identical wire thin earpieces.

A bunch of strangely detailed notes and diagrams.

A funky looking contraption that seemed familiar. A motor maybe.

And pictures.

She ignored everything else and went straight for the pictures. Zakuro carefully examined each of them carefully. The ones in the front seemed to be in worse condition than the ones behind it. She realized it was the same person in each picture, each one when the person gradually aged. They seemed to be taken from all around the world as the backgrounds differed like water and oil. Some of them were taken with a group of people, some smiling and others scowling.

The same person that kept popping up in each photograph was hauntingly familiar. She just couldn't match the face with a name. Some of them were obvious where they were taken like the one with the Eiffel Tower in the background. Or another with the big Hollywood sign.

The ones of him in New Zealand made her crack a smile. One had a big sheepdog with its tongue hanging out about to pounce him from behind when the picture was taken. The camera had caught the action like an excerpt from time.

Slowly as she came near the end, the man in the pictures grew increasingly familiar. She also noted another boy in his late teens that stood beside the man. Now two people she thought she recognized.

Zakuro was become more and more suspicious by the second. Something about those two standing together made her skin crawl. Then, she had it. That boy…he…that—there was no mistaking it!


	8. From The Eyes Of Minto

**Give Me a Reason To Smile Again**

**Chapter 8: From the eyes of Minto.**

**A/N: Sooorry!! I have to give you a thousands of sorry, my readers!! I actually want to make Zakuro and Minto on a date, but for this fic?? Hmm… No. I hope… This story could be better… actually, I found the-date version, but they're SUCK. So, Maybe you'll find that in my other fic… Lol. Okay, the chapter's title explains it all. It's from Minto's POV. Daahdah! Enjoy the fic!!**

Have you ever seen somebody's eyes dim? I thought I had whenever Ichigo was sad. Once, I had contacted Ichigo over the phone as Aoyama, mimicked hiss voice perfectly, and ends up saying that the date was cancelled, at the bathroom. When I came out, Ichigo had looked so crestfallen.

"Nature, nature!" Was what she angrily repeated after my call. As Minto, the only thing I could do was meekly ask if my older alter ego had upset her once again. She'd calm down and give me that horridly sullen look in her eyes. I always felt so guilty. But that's one of the fun things to do, right??

It was almost unbearable.

But today…today when I lied to Onee-sama—as soon as I turned around, I wanted to seize my tongue and cut it off on the spot. She didn't know that, of course. Apparently, some of mother's magnificent acting skills rubbed off on me.

When I walked out the door, I didn't head towards the creamery like I had told Zakuro. Instead, I took a walk in the park to bury myself in my guilt. The date with Kishu was a lie. I never told Kishu. Never. Every time I tried, I pulled out at the last second like the coward I was. Zakuro was right. I am an idiot.

Damn it. I'm just a lying coward. How could someone like me possibly take down the aliens? She was right to call me a fool.

Just when I thought my confidence had hit rock bottom, I returned home only to find a mess of photos surrounding a crying girl. Like the cowardly girl I was, I just stood near the door. I didn't make a move to comfort her.

When she calmed down, she stared at me. I can't even begin to describe the blank feeling her eyes gave me. She sobbed for few times before wiped her tears with her sleeves.

"Zakuro… What's wrong?" asked Minto, standing in her knees.

"Minto" She told me everything was.

At first, I refused to believe it. In fact, I went as far as accusing her of lying. Zakuro snapped to attention as if I had slapped her. She looked like she wanted to slap _me_.

I couldn't blame her.

Through a tightly strained jaw, she asked me to look through the photos and see for myself.

Did I mention that I was also a proud coward? I didn't take back my words after looking through the photographs. Not even after she explained everything to me.

"No, you're lying!! Zakuro! How could you lie about something like this!! No!!" Minto yelled, and refused to acknowledge everything.

I was acting irrational. It was unacceptable.

I would bet my ballerina career that Zakuro had never been more hurt than now. Her shoulders trembled as she glared at me silently. Like the idiot I was, I yelled even louder, demanding an explanation, not wanting to realize for even a second that she may be right and all I had to do was ask nicely for her to explain.

Zakuro shook her head, said "forget it!" and grabbed a few of the items in the suitcase.

"Zakuro!! Don't go away from here!" Minto yelled. I wish I _had_ cut off my tongue a few seconds sooner. It's a horrible mistake. Realizing I had gone too far, I opened my mouth to apologize, but Zakuro was already climbing down the steps. I ran after her, grabbing her hand, and I was about to tell her I was sorry.

In a shameful moment of silence, I hesitated.

In one smooth movement, she turned and slapped me across the face then went skating the rest of the way out the door.

"Get out of my way, Minto!"

I couldn't believe it. I never thought she would do something like this. I always thought she would be by my side, helping me as I took down the Aliens. Naïve as I was, I didn't think words — even ones as cruel as mine — would hurt Zakuro.

Didn't I once promise to always stand by Zakuro's side as long as I lived? Who am I kidding? I did the exact opposite of that. I sunk down against the wall. I buried my head in my hands, wishing I could turn back the hands of time for my grave miscalculations.

"Zakuro"

My throbbing cheek quickly reminded me what I had to do. There was no time for my dramatics. I quickly transformed into Mew Mint.

Weaving amongst traffic, I activated the radar on my power pendant and found Zakuro. I placed the tracker on her when I grabbed her hand. For that, guilt stabbed me, but I quickly shoved it away into my very own Pandora's Box.

Zakuro was moving fast. Almost as fast as I was, in fact. Is this because of her wolf gene??

At last, she stopped somewhere. Instead of slowing down, I sped up to her location. As I rounded the corner, I entered a maze of alleyways. I slowed myself to a low hum when I reached the area deep inside. According to my radar, or the radar that's in the pendant she had to either be right under me or…above?

"Shit. Where are you, Onee-sama?"

I glanced up, and sure enough Zakuro was standing on a rusted fire escape above me. I would've been relieved to see her, except for the fact that she was aiming a gun at me.

_Shit._

When did she have time to get something like that? The chances of picking up something like that on the ground were very low. She couldn't have had more than a few seconds to search for it before I arrived. In any case, my first priority was to avoid getting shot. My second was to haul her ass back home.

Heh, back home together. What an appealing thought. But this was hardly the time for daydreaming.

I barely made a move before she cocked the gun. She smiled at my frozen expression.

"Minto…" said Zakuro.

"Yes, Onee-sama??" asked me.

"You know, I would not hesitate to shoot you on one condition" said her in her usual soft voice.

"Forget me. Leave me alone" added her, coldly.

What?? Forget Zakuro? As if that would ever happen.

"No!" I rejected her offer without missing a beat.

The bullet ricocheted off the wall beside me. Lucky me, I could transformed into Mew Mint. In that moment, the flash from my Mint Arrow just went few centimeters from her neck, and her unconscious form slumped over the railing. Unfortunately, she was dangling too far over and fell.

"Zakuro!!" I lunged from the cloud of dust that surrounded me, possibly from the bullet, but tripped. Thankfully, I broke her fall anyway when she landed on my back.

"Zakuro!!"

But, damn, did that hurt.

"Auch!!" I am definitely not making it a hobby to catch falling girls. Contrary to popular belief, they are _not_ as light as I imagine them to be.

Later, I would realize that the bullet Zakuro shot at me was actually a hardened capsule that would shatter on impact after it was fired. I would also discover that the cloud of dust was not dust but a powdered version of chloroform contained inside the capsule.

Right now, I would fall asleep on the ground with an equally drowsy Zakuro using me as her pillow.

My last thought as I drifted off to sleep was that Sherlock Holmes would have handled this situation much better than I had. I was nothing compared to him. I was just…

…Just an incompetent tool.

It's a funny thing to wake up next to a girl in an alleyway. Well, maybe not quite so funny as it is heart-wrenching. How did it come to this? I felt so drained and defeated. There was something terribly wrong happening underfoot and I swore to find out what.

With my scrawny pubescent arms, I lifted Zakuro from where she lay and set positioned her safely on my skateboard. I sat behind her. I looked at her. If I had been a few years older, my hormones would be raging. Any of Zakuro's miniscule movements had me highly aware of the fact she was sleeping in between my legs. Goddamn it, she was se—stunning.

My cheeks were probably glowing in the dark like neon rave sticks.

I could barely recall which turns I took in this alleyway labyrinth. Then again, I wasn't in a hurry either. Night was settling in, and it was difficult to see. Right, like that was supposed to be my excuse. With one arm wrapped securely around Zakuro's sleeping form, I used my foot to gently push down the acceleration button on my skateboard. It's a good thing there turns here weren't sharp. I could lean into them without tipping us over.

If Zakuro woke up, I knew I would have Hell to pay for this compromising position. Oh, well.

_Que Sera, Sera._

My mind involuntarily drifted to today's events. Everything happened so quickly, I could only react. There was barely time to think. Did I mention that guilt and I were now joined to the hip? I recalled the harsh words as I snapped at her. It hollowed out my chest cavity faster than watermelon set in front of a hungry kid.

Did I deserve to bring her back?

Narrowing my eyes into slits, I left that question unanswered.

**A/N: Do you know how many times I rewrote this?? FIVE!! FIVE FREAKING TIMES!! No, Now is Six... So…yeah. **

**Sorry. This is only rewritten. XP**

**Hi. It's been a long time, hasn't it? Incidentally, I had to read my work over again just to recall the plot. It was a long and painful read, let me tell you that. Reevaluating past works has never been my strong point. I suppose I'm too critical of myself, but that's how it is. This story seemed so immature. The voice in my writing completely slaughtered me. Haha, forgive me for what I've put you readers through. I'll try to remedy that from now on.**

**But most importantly, thank you. Thank you so much for your support.**

**Next is the stupid final chapter, I guess… Stay tuned.**


	9. From Blank To Fake

**Chapter 9: From Blank To Fake**

**AN****: This will be my present to everyone for Lebaran day. And no, it's not too fast. I just wanted you to read it on Fasting day. The day you're supposed to not eat or drink anything while you're fasting. XD. Marhaban Ya Ramadhan!! Altough It's too late…**

**Okay! Give me the really last disclaimer! Rose-Chan, please??**

**Rose****-chan aka Urooj: Blah. ****Yeah. Granite Aizawa doesn't own TMM. Or this 'whatever' fic.**

**Granite: Yeah! Read and Review for the last time!**

**Ps: Thanks for Urooj, Kin****756894****, iFluff, Kamyra, Tomoyo Kinomoto, and... Aeropostale-Girl 16. Altough you never reviews, but thanks to put this story in your alert list.  
**

"Would you like me to call Aizawa-san then?" Zakuro offered. "You seem to be more interested in her." She had to think of something quick so used Minto as a scapegoat to bide time. She would apologize to her for it later.

Her Manager huffed and placed his hands on his hips. "I don't really care who goes first. I just want to know." It was an absurd thought, but he vaguely reminded Zakuro of a father scolding a child.

She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but Zakuro muttered a, "Yes, Sir…" Then shuffled out the door and went down the steps. Zakuro figured if she didn't care, Minto might as well go first. Maybe she could figure out someway to escape this mess. It wasn't too late… Either way, she needed some time to think this out rationally. Nothing good ever came from hasty choices. It only worked for people with lucky streaks, and Zakuro didn't feel very lucky today.

She could feel her manager's gaze pressing up against her back. It was like being trapped behind a door with your back against the wall. Add in the pressure of the chance that she might lose something precious, and it felt like there was a serial killer in the room with you.

She wondered how Minto would react to this. Hesitantly, she picked up the receiver and dialed the number for the Aizawa's. It rang until the answering machine picked up. Zakuro hung up the phone then tried the number for the earring phone. A sudden change in sound signaled the start of the conversation.

Zakuro just looked so nervous. If one didn't know any better, she looked like she was calling Minto to ask her out or something. Wait… that's an even scarier thought. She took a relaxing breath then ventured out a, "Hello?"

For a few tense seconds, all Azugawa-san, Zakuro's manager, could hear was silence from Zakuro.

Did you want to know why Zakuro was so silent?

It's because Minto's response had her on the edge of panic.

Zakuro became so pale; you'd have thought she tripped into powdered chalk. Her fingers trembled so badly, she had to fight to keep the phone from slipping out of her grasp. Scared, terrified, frightened, afraid, fearful, petrified, panicked, she felt all these things magnified by three. It was fear, shock, and panic clouding her mind all over again.

The emotions flashed once but then they left her.

"Hmm" Zakuro sighed.

"I'll be there." She hung up the phone and turned to her Manager. "I'm sorry, but there's something I have to do right now. I…have to go." Zakuro didn't think twice about running out the door but stopped in her tracks when she heard her manager's running.

"Zakuro-san!" She heard her manager cry out from behind her. "Don't you dare think you can run away!"

Zakuro didn't bother answering while she slipped on her shoes hurriedly.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go." Zakuro repeated. In other words, _get the BLEEP out of my way!_ "This is an urgent matter, and I would appreciate it if you didn't pry." Did Zakuro's thoughts sound cranky and rude or what?

Her manager was surprised by her professional tone. You know…the one your boss would use when they weren't satisfied with your efforts, all the while conveying their thoughts in the most subtle and polite manner. Yeah, that one.

"Are you going home, Zakuro-san? You'll get there faster by car." Zakuro considered this for a few seconds then nodded at the manager's unspoken request. Her manager quickly put his shoes on then went off to fetch his keys.

A minute later, the two were piled into a car, speeding towards Zakuro's house.

Or…what remained of it at least…

It wasn't even a house anymore…it looked more like black charred…things sticking out of the ground. Smoke was still puffing out in small amounts. Zakuro watched firemen go in and out of the once-was-house.

She wanted to sink into denial. She wanted to so badly shout out in a dramatic, "NO!" of despair. She wanted to fall to her knees and sob bitterly, cursing the world for her misfortune. How had the house burnt down…? What happened here? Was it an accident or-

The simple threat in the form of a letter entered her mind.

Then she felt numb.

Like nothing could touch her.

Devoid of feelings.

But it wasn't on purpose this time.

Zakuro wanted so badly to feel the grief, to feel her own sorrow, to feel her hope crumble away into dust, only to be swept away by the winds, never to be collected again. She so sorely wished for her resolve to crumble. Why was she so involved with her antidote that it almost completely erased the world around her?

It was like trying to stay afloat in an ocean with half her rowboat intact.

Now it was more like trying to swim across the Pacific with only a paddle.

The first home she ever had was gone. The place where she would sleep in at every night, indulging in the comfort it offered if only for a minute. It was her very first sanctuary, like it kept the troubling world away from her. It was a place she could always retreat to, a place where she was accepted for who she was.

Her bedroom, the magazines, all the different styles she had created, her home, everything was gone. Now what did she have to work on? What she have to work from?

Zakuro wasn't even aware of her manager that's trying to comfort her. Her mind never registered he muttering, "I'm right, aren't I?" Her eyes never got the visual up to her brain of Minto stepping out from the charred mess and running toward her.

All her life Zakuro was told that she was cool…cold…detached from the world.

That was exactly how she felt.

Zakuro felt cool…like when you played on the swings and the wind would rush against you. Then as you fell back, your heart was being sucked out from underneath you.

Zakuro felt cold…like those times at night when no matter how hard you curled up under your covers, you shivered like mad from the air.

Zakuro felt detached from the world…like how you would listen to your teacher babble on and on about something you could care less about, only to realize that your eyes were unfocused and your mind separated from your body.

Except Zakuro was doing none of these things. She was simply staring at the black mess while being encircled in the arms of Minto.

_Wait._

_How'd that happen?_

"Zakuro, are you okay?" Minto asked desperately for the third time.

Zakuro napped out of her reverie when she remembered herself. She found she had trouble standing on her trembling legs. "I'm fine, Minto…" She whispered. "I thought I'll have a modeling trip to Germany, I'll leave tomorrow morning." Minto's expression of relief matched hers.

Minto wasn't even aware of how tightly she was holding her. "I was so scared…" Zakuro heard her admit softly. "I thought you were trapped in the fire. My mind went blank…I didn't know what to do." Minto pulled away showing Zakuro her ash covered face. That's when she noticed her clothes where also smeared with black. "The explosion, it was just massive…I could only stand aside watching others douse the flames." Minto shook her head slowly, distraught. "I thought for sure you were gone."

"Minto," That blue-mew had such foolish self-righteousness. Minto probably would've blamed herself for not doing anything if Zakuro did indeed die. "How did the fire start?" She took the opportunity to collect her scattered and raging thoughts to sedate them with preferably more than just a pound of mental tranquilizers. She broke away from his grip and stepped back.

"F-from with I gathered, the kitchen, or where it used to be, was where most of the damage occurred. Of course, I could be wrong since the second floor collapsed." The two residents of the house were safe, so her mind resumed its normal proficient manner. "The air around smells faintly of gasoline…one of the conclusions I reached was that something was rigged in the house to cause a timed explosion, giving the culprit with sufficient time to run to safety." Minto looked at the house. "A bomb seems too unlikely. But who would do such a thing? It seems like this happened out of the blue. There's also the chance it could've been an accident. But I'm sure you'd never leave an open fire unattended."

"Someone did it on purpose." A new voice entered the conversation. Minto and Zakuro were equally shocked (well, Zakuro shocked too, but she hide it) when they found Zakuro's manager, Azugawa-san standing next to them. "Nothing happens by accident around you two. Nothing."

"Ah. Azugawa-san! Wha-umm…hi." Minto stuttered. "Eh, what do you mean by that?"

Zakuro rolled her eyes.

"Forget it. Anyways, Minto, I need to talk to you alone." Zakuro dragged Minto away from all the commotion. When she saw that the place was relatively isolated, she mumbled, "My manager, Azugawa-san is getting suspicious of our true identities. That's why he muttered something like that. Actually, it's more like he's practically figured out everything but our names."

Minto merely nodded with a knowing expression.

"You knew?"

"It was a hunch." Minto explained. "Seiji is deducing the same thing but…I've always managed to prove him wrong one way or another. He's going to find out one day though. Once every lie has been stripped away, no matter how unbelievable the conclusion is, it's going to be the truth. They're not stupid. But it is surprising that Azugawa-san found out too. We've made the mistake of underestimating them. I'd much rather have them find out the truth from us rather then having them find out themselves. Tell him. Maybe the truth would distance him from trouble when he realizes how serious this is."

Zakuro leveled her with a flat skeptical look.

Minto shook his head. "Tell him to stop by my mansion tomorrow. It's where you'll be staying anyway. We'll both tell them everything there."

Zakuro had almost forgotten about where she was going to stay. Looking back at the charred remains of the house, Zakuro could only hope that everything would turn out for the best. Everything was moving so fast.

Minto started speaking again, but this time with a wistful tone. "You know, Onee-sama…up till now, I've never been able to relate to your pain. I'd like to think I can understand at least a portion of it now. Your house holds a lot of memories for me too."

"No, Aizawa. You'd never understand. Never. Go on with your happy little life. You don't know what it feels like to be a curse. Just go away."

Perhaps that's what Zakuro should've said. It certainly would add a bit more drama to this, wouldn't it? But…it'd also hurt Minto's feelings. Zakuro was done with pain. People never did react nicely to pain. Treating them cruelly obviously had not succeeded in driving any of them away, it had only succeeded in gaining distance from them at the very most. She wouldn't drag anyone down in her own punishment. They always seemed worried whenever she'd say something death-related. It was time to ease their worries.

But what could do it…?

Oh, of course.

"Thank you, Minto. Shall we go salvage what we can?"

Zakuro warned her against it.

Zakuro said it was useless.

But what did Zakuro do?

She smiled.

**A/n: hell, Zakuro smiled?? Is that a really good ending??**

**Okay, I'll delete the whole story... 7 days left. **

**PS: Last chapter, Yay! Let's see… the sequel of this is Zakuro VS My fiancé… I completely forget to tell you all… Let's see how the plans work…**

**(SPOILERS) For you who read Zakuro Vs My fiancé, more than 790 words are already finished. That's mean… we need 1500 more words…**

**Please read and review!**


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